Silver Lining
by Moony3003
Summary: As Sam hunts the alpha werewolf with Dean, someone hunts him. Not slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Nothing of Supernatural belongs to me. All of it is Eric Kripke's. Just borrowing.

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A/N: Story set in season 6 between episodes 10 and 11. Spoilers for plot of 11. If you haven't seen it you might not want to read.

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**Silver Lining**

Chapter One

The area was quiet. It had just passed the seven hour mark. Nothing out of the ordinary came from the house they watched. The full moon hung in a cloudless sky above the house in clear view. A defeated sigh sounded from inside the black impala sitting across the dark, wet street.

"The moon no longer needs to be full. I think we've got the wrong house," said Dean, shifting uncomfortably, his backside began to turn numb.

"All the signs point to the woman inside," assured Sam. "Just be patient."

"Be patient?" snapped Dean, meeting his brother's eye. "We've been patient the last seven hours, not including all the hours since we first started this crazy mission."

"Look, we agreed to hunt down other alphas in case one of them actually does know where purgatory is," Sam reminded. "Now, I know that you think it's a waste of time-"

"Just because they go there when they die, doesn't mean they know where it is," interrupted Dean.

"I know, Dean," sighed Sam, clearly exasperated. "Why not tell me what you'd rather be doing then?"

There was no response as Dean broke the eye contact and went back to looking at the house.

"Let's focus on this alpha and then the next. If something worthwhile does come up then we'll focus on that, alright?"

Dean nodded but remained silent. Sam's head turned back to watch the house as well and everything turned quiet around them once again. Several more minutes passed and the only thing that changed was that the porch light had been switched off, followed by one on the inside. Dean looked at his watch. It was five minutes passed midnight.

When the watch hands pointed to four in the morning, Dean shook his head silently and gently turned the key to start the engine. Sam's head turned at the noise.

"What are you doing?"

"Sam, everyone in that house is asleep," said Dean calmly. "Nothing is busting out or wolfing out for that matter. Besides, all the alphas we've met are male."

"Doesn't mean they all are," pointed out Sam.

"Let's just go back to the motel and get some sleep... well, let me get some sleep and we can continue tomorrow and see if something's happened."

The conversation died as Sam found it pointless to argue and they drove to their motel in silence. The vacancy sign flashed in bright neon red letters and all the porch lights lined the small side walk except for one; theirs. After parking in front of number eleven they got out of the car and took their bags with them.

"Wait," said Sam suddenly.

Instantly, Dean stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening slightly as he looked side to side before staring at his brother, whose eyes were focused straight ahead. Following his line of sight, Dean noticed what Sam was staring at. There was something stuck to the faint, chipped green door. Dean held out an arm and approached the door alone. He ripped a photo from it and took a few steps away so he could see a little more clearly. Dean's eyes widened again as he instantly recognised the smiling face that stared back.

"What?" asked Sam quickly.

Dean glanced up briefly before flipping the photo around so Sam could see it. In a flash, Sam's features tightened and for a split second his eyes seemed to glaze over. With a shaking hand Sam reached out and took the picture, bringing it close to his face.

"Jess."

There was a dead, calm silence and when he spoke again Dean felt chills rush down his spine.

"Who the hell would do this?"

Both hunters looked up and down the small, concrete walkway, out into the half empty parking lot and into the dark adjoining street. There was no one.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

As morning light filtered into the room, the sun's rays crawled along the bed; eventually reaching over the sleeping mans eyes. The heat under the covers increased and it pulled him from his slumber. Without moving, he squinted heavily as he glanced around at what he could see of the room. The tall frame of his brother came into view. He was sitting at the table, his back and shoulders hunched over, his body rigid and his eyes casted downwards at the table. From here, he couldn't see what he was so focused on but he could take a pretty good guess. At the thought, a crease appeared between his brows. Not since his return had Sam shown any emotion about anything or anyone. It made him wonder if Jess was about to be the exception.

As he moved, it caught Sam's attention who cleared his throat and brought his laptop closer to him, covering the picture. "I think we had the right house last night," said Sam.

"Morning to you too," said Dean, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Why was it the right house?" he asked when Sam said nothing.

"I went around there at five and I found blood on the grass in the backyard."

"You went back alone? Not even an hour after we'd left there? And in my car?" asked Dean.

"I had a hunch and you were asleep," said Sam, shrugging. He turned to look at Dean and their eyes locked. "Besides, it didn't take long and I found something," he added, standing up and picking up a brown paper bag, handing it to his brother.

Dean's nose instantly turned up in disgust. He could already smell it and whatever was in there was going to be awful. Slowly, he opened the bag and peered inside. In a split second, he tore his eyes away from the contents and held the paper bag away from his body.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Yep, remainders of a human heart."

"Gross," commented Dean as he got to his feet.

He put the bag onto the table beside Sam's laptop before making his way to the bathroom. After a few moments, the toilet flushed and the sound of running water replaced it. "So, what's the plan, Sammy?" called Dean, his voice echoing off the grimy tiles.

"We go back to the house and capture the werewolf," answered Sam, loud enough for him to hear.

The dingy white door creaked open. "How?" asked Dean, standing in the doorway, drying his hands on a faded red towel.

"We trap it."

"Trap it?" questioned Dean. He threw the towel towards the bathtub and stepped back into the main room. "How exactly do we trap it?"

"I was thinking of a giant metal cage about this big," explained Sam, showing Dean the size that he meant with his arms which were stretched out as wide as they could go.

"I'm serious, Sam," said Dean sharply, his eyes narrowing.

"So am I," retorted Sam with a vague smile, dropping his arms, the sounds of hands hitting his thighs sounding through the room.

Dean walked across the room to his bed and took out the duffel bag from underneath. He took out a clean, black shirt and changed into it.

"Ok, what about this," said Sam after some thought. "What if we go and talk to it?"

"What?" spluttered Dean in disbelief. "You want to go in there and talk to the thing?"

"We could place traps around the house, trap it inside."

"And us with it?"

"Silver doesn't affect us," said Sam frowning.

"You know what I mean, Sam," snapped Dean loudly, moving to the table and leaning forward on it, staring hard at his brother. "We need a way to incapacitate it not anger it, especially considering it can change at will and besides, we don't know if silver will even work. It's an alpha."

"Alright," said Sam with a heavy sigh. "What do you want to do then?"

For a few minutes, it was quiet. Dean pushed himself off the table and walked to the window and half heartedly took an interest in anything that was happening. The thing he knew was best would be to kill it but like Crowley, part of them wanted to know where purgatory was. None of the alphas so far knew but Dean still held hope that at least one did. The hope did fade though, especially upon learning that even the angels didn't know its location.

"You know I'm gonna say that it's best we kill it and that is the better option, but we need information," said Dean finally, turning to look at his brother, his hands on hips. "Maybe we should try the cage option. What if we watch the house and once it leaves we set a trap in the backyard. But the cage will have to be set high and we'll need bait of some kind."

At the last sentence, Sam got to his feet, closed his laptop and reached for his jacket which sat on the chair next to him. Dean watched as he walked to the door and opened it, not saying a word.

"Whoa, wait, where are you going?"

"To get bait," he said simply.

"What?" asked Dean. "From where?"

"The morgue."

"Werewolves prefer live victims," said Dean instantly.

"Doesn't mean it won't go for something it doesn't have to work for," said Sam with a faint shrug.

"Alright, and the cage?"

"Call Bobby," said Sam as he walked out the door.

Dean stared after him, watching as his brother walked through the parking lot and into the street. As soon as he disappeared from sight, Dean pulled out his mobile phone and dialled the number.

* * *

The afternoon sun sat low in the sky surrounded by the white clouds that came across at midday. In the backyard of a large white, two storey house, two men set a large metal cage on the ground. The younger man looped the end of a rope though the top and tied a knot securely. With the rope locked, the elder man got to his feet and walked towards the two rows of tree that blocked out the view of the back fence. Just as he got into position, the familiar rumbling of a car was heard and Dean looked in the direction of the street.

"That should be Sam," he said, looking at Bobby and pointing over his shoulder.

Not waiting for a response he walked around the side of the house, across the front lawn and towards the car that stood out like a sore thumb. All the other cars were red and white sedans, a silver hatchback and two black SUV's. As he approached he saw Sam open the trunk and fiddle with something inside. A feeling of dread filled Dean's chest as he got closer. He knew Sam had gone to get bait but what exactly the bait was going to be, he wasn't sure. He hadn't asked for all the little details.

At the sound of his approach, Sam turned his head. "Give me a hand."

Dean peered into the trunk. There was something big and solid that was covered by a white sheet. Dean felt his mouth turn a little dry and he swallowed hard before asking the question. "Is that a body?"

Sam looked between his brother and the corpse. "Well, we need bait-"

"I expected a heart or something not a whole body," interrupted Dean loudly.

"This was easier," said Sam, shrugging.

"Sam..."

"What, Dean?" Sam sighed as he rolled his eyes. "Look, I know this is less than desirable but he's already dead and besides, the werewolf isn't going to touch him. We'll stop it before that happens then we'll get the body back to the morgue in one piece."

Dean thought it through. "How did you get in and out without being seen?"

"Does it matter?" asked Sam, pausing.

Instantly, Dean shook his head. On second thought, he decided he really didn't want to know how Sam got in there and came out with a body. Moving closer, Dean reached in and took hold of the legs while Sam took the arms and together they lifted it out gently. Slowly, they took it into the backyard and placed it under the cage hanging above.

Once it was down, Sam stood tall and looked around. The green grass no longer carried the blood stains he saw earlier this morning and the whole space seemed bigger, more spacious. The trees crowded most of the area more than he realised. It almost made him think that this could possibly work. Sam looked up. The cage swayed slightly but was half covered by a tall, towering tree whose leaves helped camouflage it a little.

"He's naked."

Sam turned at Dean's words and he looked down. The sheet resettled on the body and when he met Dean's eye he shrugged. "Well, of course he is," he said, slightly amused. "I got him from a morgue. He doesn't have much use for clothes anymore. And besides, it's not like I had time to dress him. Also-"

Abruptly, Sam stopped talking, his whole body stilling. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear wh-"

His words were cut short as Sam grabbed him and pulled him to a large tree that was ten metres away. They settled behind while bearing in mind to be careful about not being seen over the fence at the rear of them. A loud bang sounded as the back screen door flung open violently, startling all three of them.

A tall, slim, feminine figure appeared, staggering cautiously down the steps as though injured. She sniffed at the air heavily before staring down at the ground in front. The bait had been seen. Continuing forward, she stepped off the grass, stopping a few feet from the body. Her head tilted as though curious about the thing lying before her. A growl sounded in her throat as the stench of the rotting corpse filled her nostrils.

A horrible snarling followed it and they all watched as the werewolf's body lengthened. Her back arched and the sound of bone cracking echoed. The brown hair that was flecked with grey grew and flayed out to the sides, its skin turned a pale grey and her nails extended into claws. A long, harsh hiss filled the air and it took another step closer to the body but then stopped again.

At the second pause, Sam pulled the gun from his jacket pocket and quietly cocked it, readying himself. Beside him, Dean drew in a sharp breath and held it, knowing that it stopping a second time wasn't a good sign.

A wide, ferocious grin surfaced on the werewolf's pale face and its large grey eyes widened, its pupils clearly dilated. Slowly, it raised its head and locked eyes with Bobby in the trees.

"Oh, crap," whispered Bobby.

The time to react was minimal as the werewolf jumped over the body and towards the trees. The cage dropped to the ground but missed by metres. The leaves rustled and a high pitched shout of pain ripped through the air. Both Dean and Sam ran out from their hiding spot and headed towards the trees. Dean got there first and ignoring the obvious danger and the gun in his pocket, he pounced on the werewolf's back.

"Dean!" shouted Sam.

He raised the weapon but couldn't get a clear shot. The beast howled in frustration at the extra weight on its back and pulled up to its full height. Dean held on tightly, wanting to make sure that it wouldn't put its attention back onto Bobby, who wasn't moving.

With a stretch of its body, the werewolf reached back, took hold of Dean's clothing and pulled him over her shoulder. Dean hit the ground hard and groaned as he tried to move. She reached back with one clawed hand to strike down at the hunter.

BANG

A shot exploded through the air and the werewolf stumbled slightly on its feet but managed to stay upright. It turned and focused on Sam who was still pointing his gun at it. An angry growl sounded in its throat as it took a step forward.

BANG

Sam shot it in the other leg and the beast crumbled to its knees. With adrenaline pumping through him, Sam moved closer and pressed the gun into her forehead, knowing full well that she still had full use of her arms. The werewolf met his eye and smiled but no attack came.

"Dean," said Sam, not breaking the contact.

The hunter on the ground rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself to his knees and then to his feet, a heavy groan going with it. He moved behind the werewolf and took out a pair of silver handcuffs from his back pocket.

"Put it in the trunk," said Dean as he placed heavy silver metal chains around her torso.

Sam didn't question the order which was quickly carried out. After a deep breath, Dean turned sharply and ran to Bobby's side, dropping to his knees.

"Bobby," said Dean, shaking him by the shoulder. "Bobby!"

A whimper of pain came from Bobby and Dean sighed in a mixture of relief and happiness. With a quick look over him Dean saw the puncture wounds that covered his body were numerous and some more deep than others. Dean swore under his breath. He didn't realise that the werewolf had been able to do so much damage in such a short period of time. It had only been a matter of seconds but it had managed to do all of this.

In the distance, he heard the thud of the trunk closing. Using all the strength he could muster, he got Bobby to his feet and putting an arm around his shoulders, he began to lead him towards the car. Halfway there, Sam jogged over and held Bobby up on the other side. At reaching the car Sam opened the door and along with Dean, helped Bobby inside.

"Let me drive," said Sam, holding out his hand.

Dean made sure the back door was secure before looking at his brother. "I'm fine, Sam."

"Just in case," said Sam, still waiting for the keys. "Hand them over."

Not wanting to argue and knowing that time wasn't a luxury they had, Dean handed the keys over. After getting into the car Sam turned the ignition and revved the engine once.

"Drive quickly," said Dean glancing beside him.

Sam nodded once and drove as fast as he could without killing them. Both of them consistently looked into the backseat, ignoring the odd thump from the trunk.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The sterile, white environment of the emergency room was hectic as doctors and nurses rushed around. In a far corner near one of the many large square windows, Dean and Sam sat together, waiting to hear news of Bobby. So far, no one had come out to tell them anything. Sam's eyes were stuck to the double doors that led to the theatres and the many rooms beyond.

Dean on the other hand, looked around the emergency room at all the people still waiting to be seen. Blood spotted the pristine white floor in places here and there, while others were unable to stay still from the pain they were in. One of them Dean knew was from a broken arm. It made him scoff at how the man was acting. He'd had worse before.

Feeling he was being watched, Dean turned his head to the person sitting on his other side. The man was looking at him through the bloody tissue he held to his nose. Dean managed a lopsided smile as he nodded his head. Turning to look at Sam, he leaned over a little.

"This won't take long will it?"

"I don't know, Dean," sighed Sam, sounding somewhat bored.

"You know we've still got a werewolf in the trunk," Dean whispered.

"I know," said Sam. "I could go and take care of it if you want."

A splutter of air left Dean's mouth making Sam's attention on the door fold. He looked beside him and frowned. "What?"

"Come on, Sam," said Dean louder than intended. "You think after all this time I'm gonna leave you alone with an alpha, especially one that could have killed you."

"What?" repeated Sam, shifting in the hard plastic chair.

"Sam, you walked right up to that werewolf, knowing that it still could move its arms freely. We didn't capture it. It let itself get caught."

The chair beside Dean creaked and a body passed his vision as he turned his head. The man that was sitting beside him moved to the other side of the room, throwing both of them curious looks. Dean's face lit up with amusement and he chuckled lightly.

"And because of that, I'm not about you let you be alone with it," continued Dean, turning his attention back to Sam and lowering his voice. "We make sure Bobby's alright and then we'll deal with it. It's not getting out of that trunk until we let it out," he added firmly.

"That's if the silver in there can hold it long enough," muttered Sam.

"What do you mean?" asked Dean, annoyance clear in his tone.

"Do you remember the alpha shapeshifter?" reminded Sam. "It wasn't affected by anything that we did. It took a lot more to hurt it than its children. I'm just saying that it's probably the same with the werewolf."

"Well, as I said before, it let itself be caught," said Dean sharply. "Why would it run now?"

"I don't know," Sam sighed heavily.

With that the conversation ended and both brothers stared at the white doors. An hour passed before someone came to them. The man stood in a long white coat, a clipboard in hand and a frown on his tired, lined face. He looked the two over before reading his notes again.

"Dean and Sam... Here for Robert Singer?"

"Yes," said Dean, standing up, Sam following his movements.

"He's doing well," said the doctor with a faint smile. "The bleeding has been stopped, no major arteries were hit and he's more than awake, barking orders to see both of you."

They followed the doctor through the white doors and down a wide, almost empty corridor and into a small, private room near the end. A machine beeped in the corner and the dusty white blinds were closed, giving the room a closed in feeling. A single bed sat directly in the centre and wrapped within the white blankets they saw Bobby, sitting up, wide awake and watching them. As soon as the doctor left, he spoke.

"So, where is it, boys?"

"In the trunk," replied Dean instantly.

"In the trunk?" repeated Bobby with a little disbelief. "It's gonna take more than all the silver you've got in there to hold it, or kill it."

"What will?" asked Sam quickly, looking ready for a fight.

"Iridium," said Bobby confidently. "It's the same thing that hurt the shapeshifter."

"The same thing would work?" asked Dean slowly, a frown forming. "They're two different beings."

"Iridium is one of the rarest metals on earth and it's hard to forge," said Bobby. "And there may only be one place you can get one."

Dean sighed as he hung his head. He knew where they could possibly get one but he was now dead. He met Sam's eye and it was clear he knew too. "Crowley," said Sam with a shake of his head.

"We're gonna need Cas," said Dean instantly, walking towards the door. "I'll go call him."

Without waiting, Dean left the room and the hospital. He stood the most vacant spot of the parking lot and looked up. He scoffed lightly as his eyes wandered over the twinkling stars. Calling the angel had become beyond difficult as lately, he'd been too busy to come down and help them.

"Hey, uh, Cas, we need a little help with the werewolf alpha," he said, feeling stupid. "Want to come down and give us a hand?"

A few seconds passed and Dean looked ahead of him. Nothing. Then to the sides. Nothing. Then behind him. Nothing. A sharp breath left his mouth. Somehow he wasn't surprised. As he turned back to look at the hospital, something shiny caught his eye. The silver glint came from a small car driving through the emergency exit and out through the other side without slowing down or stopping.

Feeling his patience run out, Dean looked back up and decided to try again, his voice much less polite than before.

"Come on, Cas," he started, clearly frustrated. "We just need help getting one item. Don't be a dick." He paused, looking around again. Nothing. "Oh, you know what? I-"

"I'm here, Dean."

The hunter spun on his heel at the sound of the deep, raspy voice. The usual appearance of a man dressed in a black suit, blue tie and tan trench coat stood there, seemingly out of thin air. For a moment, Dean felt his annoyance evaporate as relief replaced it at seeing the angel. But it soon returned.

"What took you so long?" asked Dean harshly.

"I'm sorry," said Castiel quietly. "Things have become difficult."

Suddenly, Dean detected a noticeable change in the angel. He looked tired, beaten, and worn-out. "What's wrong?" he asked, looking the angel up and down a few times.

"Raphael is about to win," he said, his shoulders slumping. "What do you want?"

"I, uh, we need..." Dean trailed off, wondering if he should say something about the angel's civil war. "We need Crowley's iridium knife and we thought you might have taken it after cleaning the place out," he said without faltering, deciding against saying anything.

"I have it," said Castiel, pulling out a blade from inside his trench coat. "I meant to hand it over but forgot. Is there anything else?"

"Um... no," said Dean, feeling a little too lucky. "Actually, yes, will this work against the alpha werewolf?"

"Yes," said Castiel, nodding. "It should."

"Okay," he said, shrugging. "Thanks for the help."

Dean turned back towards the hospital but stopped suddenly as a flutter of wings sounded and Castiel appeared in front of him. The hunter's face lit up with obvious surprise but before he could get a word out, the angel spoke.

"You need to be careful, Dean," said Castiel, his blue eyes shining unusually bright.

"The werewolf let itself get captured, I know," he said walking past the angel.

"That's not what I'm talking about," said Castiel. His words made Dean stop and turn to look at him. "You and Sam are being stalked, by a woman."

"We would have noticed," said Dean dismissing it.

"Don't be so sure," said Castiel quickly. "Who left the picture of Sam's girlfriend Jessica on the door of the motel? It's someone personal, someone after revenge. You need to be careful."

"You know about the picture?"

"Of course," said Castiel as though the answer were obvious. "Check your car."

"Then you know who's doing-"

Dean's sentence was cut short as the wings fluttered again and the angel disappeared into thin air. Dean muttered under his breath, cursing the angel's indirectness and went to check on his car. The Impala gleamed spotlessly under the white light it sat beneath. And there was something stuck to the windshield. It looked to be a piece of paper that started to rustle at the corner as though threatening to blow away.

At reaching the car, he yanked the paper off the windshield and looked at it. Dean sighed, but it wasn't in irritation, it was in dismay. It was like the one on the motel door all over again. Pulling out his phone, he brought up Sam's number and sent a text: _outside._

It only took a few minutes until he saw his brother's tall frame walk from the main entrance and towards him. "What is it?" asked Sam, stopping a few feet from him.

Dean said nothing but held out the paper. With a frown, Sam took it and casted his eyes down. His features instantly hardened and Dean looked away, suddenly feeling as though he were intruding on something private. When he looked up, he noticed that Sam hadn't moved nor had his features changed. After a couple minutes, Sam handed the piece of paper back, turned and walked back to the hospital.

"I want this person's head," he said coldly.

Dean nodded as he folded the paper and shoved it in his pocket. Part of him agreed with his little brother but he knew there had to be a reason Sam was being targeted this way. It couldn't just be anybody.

* * *

The black iron gate creaked as it was opened, making Sam roll his eyes. It was clichéd. He pushed the werewolf through the available space, Dean following behind. He moved ahead, opening the heavy iron door. Surprise registered across his face as it wasn't locked. Once inside, he closed it and locked it. As Sam secured the werewolf in a metal chair with silver chains, Dean got to work, lining the church walls with protection.

When finished, Dean turned and looked over every inch of the place, just to make sure. The cold stone walls were sprawled with ancient writings that Dean had looked up, on the door there was werewolf blood smeared across each column and the windows had been splattered with what was left. The thick silver chains they'd dragged from the car were tied around the werewolf's body, holding it to the thick metal chair in front of the altar.

"Looks good," said Dean, admiring his own work.

For the second time Sam rolled his eyes and said nothing, standing beside him. They both looked at the creature before them. She was back in human form, looking up at them with wide, ocean blue eyes. Her pale skin was flecked with red spots and Dean's jaw clenched, knowing it was Bobby's blood on her face. Her tattered clothes barely covered her and at Sam's wandering eyes, she smiled, showing her razor sharp, sparkling white teeth.

"What should we play first?" she asked teasingly, her eyes focused solely on Sam.

"How about let's neuter the puppy when it doesn't behave?" suggested Dean, cocking his eyebrow.

"Ooooh, kinky," the werewolf said, smirking. "Might work better if I were male."

"Oh, trust me, it'll work," said Dean confidently. "Now, why did you let us take you?"

The slender female shrugged, a smile of indifference on her face. "Who says I did?"

"I do," retorted Dean. "After shooting you, which you seem to have recovered from, you went down but still had use of your claws and you didn't do anything. You surrendered."

A sudden bout of laughter erupted from the werewolf's mouth, visibly startling both Dean and Sam. The sound echoed off the stone walls several times over. Once it died down, Sam watched as Dean took a step forward, pulling a dark knife from his jacket pocket. Sam decided to let it play out a little before getting involved. He took a step back and leaned against the altar.

"Do you know what this is?" asked Dean, waving the knife in the woman's face.

"Your daddy's little plaything?" she said cheekily, the smirk growing wider.

Dean's lower lip twitched at the mention of his father but he swallowed it and took a step closer and bent over, leaving their faces only inches apart. "It's iridium," he whispered smugly. "Got it from a demon who tortured an alpha shapeshifter mercilessly with it."

The smirk faltered somewhat but the attitude didn't. "You know from here I could bite your nose off..." she murmured vaguely.

"And if you don't tell us what we want to know, we're gonna use it the same way on you," continued Dean, ignoring the empty threat.

Suddenly, the werewolf's demeanour changed. The chains rattled as she slumped in the chair, her head tilting to the side as she continued to look at Dean. Slowly, a grin developed on her face. Dean's hard green ones still stared into her blue orbs, refusing to look away.

"I have to wonder... why you are still looking for purgatory," she said slowly in a bored tone. "I mean, Crowley's gone. There's no need for it to be found."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "You know of Crowley?"

"Of course I do, you arrogant sap," snapped the werewolf curtly, suddenly becoming angry. "All alphas know of Crowley! He's the reason most of us fear for our lives. Once he has an alpha they're never seen again. You and other hunters were doing his bidding but he's now gone. There's no need for the search to persist. It can all stop now."

"We don't think so," said Dean, standing tall.

"And why is that?" she asked quickly.

"Our grandfather was one of the hunters helping Crowley and he won't stop until he finds the location," explained Dean.

"He'll fail!" barked the werewolf. "The only person that was ever interested in purgatory was Crowley. Now that he's gone, the whole idea of it goes with him."

"So, how-"

"Tell us where purgatory is then, if it doesn't matter," interrupted Sam, finally speaking, pushing himself off the altar, standing beside his brother again.

"I'm not telling you," said the werewolf, lowering her gaze to the floor.

"But if it doesn't matter..." said Sam, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "Then you can tell us."

"No."

"That's it," muttered Sam, moving forward. "Tell us now or-"

"What are you doing?"

The new voice gained the attention of all three and inside the front door, someone stood. A look between confusion and anger coloured his features. Dean swore under his breath and stepped halfway between him and the werewolf.

"Cas, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," asked the angel roughly. "This is a house of God."

"Seriously? That's why you're here?" asked Sam, leaning to the side to get a clear view of Castiel.

Castiel's jaw clenched but he kept his focus on Dean. "I'm not here about... this," he said emphasising the last word. "I have an idea on how you can get Sam's soul back."

"You have no soul?" muttered the werewolf, her head snapping around to look up at Sam, a look of pure curiosity on her face. "How interesting..."

"You shut up," said Dean, pointing at her. "How?" he asked the angel.

"I will not speak in front of that thing," hissed Castiel. "Go to the motel. I'll explain there."

With a flutter, Castiel was gone, leaving the three alone again. Dean and Sam exchanged questioningly looks and without words, they both knew what the other was thinking. Dean walked back over and looked down at the beast in the chair.

"Well, looks like you're gonna have to wait for us to return," said Dean with a fake but seemingly delighted smile. "Come on, Sam."

Without a word, Sam followed Dean back to the car and they left. Halfway there, Sam heard Dean sigh and shift beside him.

"What time is it?"

"Just after two thirty," replied Sam, looking beside him. "I know its late man but you're the one saying we'll find another way."

"Yeah, and now we have," said Dean. "Cas said he'd look and he's got something."

The inside of the car turned quiet. In silent frustration, Dean looked back to the black road ahead and sighed. It had already been a long day that was turning into a long night. He was sure things couldn't get any worse.

* * *

They pulled into the parking lot and parked in the vacant spot directly in front of their door. Getting out of the car, Sam straight away looked at the green door a few metres away. There was nothing stuck to it except for the two faded brass numbers. He caught Dean's eyes but looked away instantly, grabbing a bag from the back seat.

Dean followed suit and together they walked to the door. Dean pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the door before pushing it open. The hinges creaked with strain but stayed open until they'd entered. Sam closed the door behind them and Dean reached over and turned the light on. The room lit up in a dull glow but instantly they both froze at the state it was in.

The bed covers were pulled off and left on the floor, books lay strewn across the floor, some open and some with missing or ripped pages, furniture and small appliances were turned over and photocopied white papers littered the floor, the tops of the beds and table as well as being glued to the walls. Dean spluttered air in confusion, unable to make sense of it and walked towards one wall, ripping a page off.

It was the exact one that had been on the windshield of his car. It showed Sam and Jessica in happier times, a smear of a thick red substance across the page and a single word; murderer. Dean glanced across the room at his brother who had dropped his bag and picked up a piece of paper, something close to shock filling his features. He scrunched the paper up in one hand and threw it to the ground. He wrenched the door open and stormed out.

"Sam!"

But Dean's shout went ignored and in defeat he let the paper in his hand float to the floor. With another, long look around, he realised that Castiel was right; this wasn't some horrible, cruel joke but someone who was angry and wanted revenge. They needed to find out who before it went too far.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The last bit of paper was tossed into the rubbish bin and Dean stood between the two beds, his hands on hips, gazing around the room. Despite the scraping and still wet glue on the walls, it looked quite good, almost like it had when they first rented the room.

He moved to the small fridge and pulled a bottle of beer from the shelf and sat on the end of his bed. After a long sip, he sighed heavily, feeling as though a small weight had been lifted. But he knew it wasn't over. With a glance at the door, he got back to his feet and approached the window. Pulling the white blinds forward, he looked outside. There wasn't much to see.

It was dark and quiet. The road in front was empty, the vacant sign flashed in bright neon red letters and five cars including his were stationary in the parking lot. A faint frown appeared between Dean's brows. On the other side of the parking lot was a silver car. A familiar glint passed over the surface of it. He was sure he'd seen the same car outside the werewolf's residence and the hospital.

As he tried to place a face to the car, the tall frame of his little brother came into view, pulling his attention away. He watched as Sam walked past the Impala and into the middle of the parking lot. Even with a soul, Dean had seen that look and stance many times. Sam was angry and frustrated. Part of him felt relieved. It seemed the mention of Jess really had gotten under his skin.

A movement in the trees behind the silver car caught Dean's attention. Pulling the blinds away further, he leaned closer to the window to try and see clearer. A figure stood there but he couldn't tell who it was or even if it was male or female. It remained still, as though watching, waiting for the right moment. But as soon as it ran out from the cover and into view, he saw her. But Sam didn't and the knife in her hand glinted from the yellow lights that decorated the parking lot.

"Sam!"

His muffled cry was heard and Sam turned in time to see a woman crash into him. Together they fell to the hard ground, the woman on top. The bottle of beer in Dean's hand fell to the ground, the brown liquid staining the grey carpet and he ran outside. The woman raised the knife in the air before bringing it down towards Sam but he kept her arm up and the knife at bay with the quick moving of his hands. With her free hand she grabbed his arms in an attempt to weaken his grip but it didn't work.

With a heavy heave, Sam bucked the woman off. She rolled on the hard tarmac and was on her feet in seconds, as was Sam. They both breathed heavily and for the first time, their eyes met. Sam's eyes widened. The woman was slim with long blonde hair that spilled over her shoulders wildly ending in curls and her grey eyes bore into his, anger and rage evident. She twirled the knife in her hand and lunged towards Sam again.

The tall hunter grabbed her arms but the knife point slashed against his shoulder. Sam gasped from the pain and whirled them around, slamming her against the Impala. He grabbed her wrist and smashed her hand holding the knife against the shiny black surface until it dropped to the ground with a ping. Feeling defenceless, she raised her leg and her knee connected with Sam's groin, making his hands on her slackened. With a shove, she pushed him off and he stumbled backwards, falling on his backside.

She dived for the knife and went for Sam again but a pair of strong hands held her back by the arms, twisting them so she released the knife. "No, no, sweetheart," muttered Dean quickly.

A frustrated yell left her mouth as she fought against the restraint but it held. They both stared ahead as Sam got back to his feet and checked the wound at his shoulder before brushing dirt and gravel off his shirt.

"You alright, Sammy?" asked Dean, concern flooding his tone.

"Yeah, fine," he said, clearly irritated. "It's just a scratch. We should get inside."

Nodding, Dean agreed but said nothing. He took her inside while Sam picked up the knife and followed. Once inside, Dean released her, pushing her towards the other side. She spun on her heel and made forward but stopped when Dean stood directly in front of her.

"Jess…"

The woman scoffed under her breath and raised her head, pushing the hair off her face. Dean's features relax and he turned to look at Sam, as though asking him to explain.

"It's Jade," said Sam, sighing heavily. "Jess' sister."

"Sister?" asked Dean, turning his head to look at Sam. "You never mentioned that Jess had a sister."

"So? She had parents too but I never mentioned them," said Sam shrugging.

"You son of a bitch!"

Dean turned just in time to grab Jade before she could move towards Sam and he pulled her further to the other side of room, wanting as much space between them as possible. As soon as she calmed, Dean released her but stayed close in case.

"I didn't kill her-"

"I don't believe you!"

"You're responsible for this?" asked Dean, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He opened it to reveal the picture he'd seen spread around the room earlier.

"He had to know that someone else knew," said Jade angrily, her eyes still on Sam.

"I didn't kill her," insisted Sam.

"Bull-"

"How did you find us?" interrupted Dean, ending their short but fiery conversation.

"I'm a hunter," said Jade assertively.

There was a laugh of disbelief and both Dean and Jade looked to Sam, who looked thoroughly amused. "A hunter? You've got to be kidding me. How did you even start? How can you possibly know about any of this?"

"I asked around Stanford for information which led me to Lawrence, which led me to a guy named Mike Guenther. He seemed more than happy to talk about John. I think he misses him..."

"Careful," warned Dean.

"He said that John thought something had killed Mary, so I went to a psychic since I'd run out of leads," continued Jade. "All she would tell me about was the Roadhouse. So, I went there. I spoke to a middle-aged brunette woman; she wouldn't tell me anything about anything. A few hunters there told me about a guy named Gordon Walker. They said he should be able to tell me everything I wanted to know."

"You found Gordon?" asked Dean quietly, a frown appearing.

"Yes," said Jade. "He was more than happy to tell me all about you Winchesters. He told me everything he could possibly tell me. He also told me about your methods, habits and how to track you. I haven't been able to contact him lately though..."

"He's dead," said Sam sharply.

"How?"

"Beheaded," replied Sam. "By me."

"Murdered him too then?" said Jade nastily.

"He'd been turned by a vampire that wanted revenge for the killing of his family," said Dean could before the conversation blew up. "He then came after us, for revenge. We had no choice."

"Oh," murmured Jade, unsure of what to say to that. "Well, after that, I went around talking to hunters who know you; the only one that wasn't willing to talk was Bobby Singer. He practically threw me off his property. I also spoke to a few people that you saved and helped. Most of them spoke fondly of both of you."

"And how long have you been stalking me?" asked Sam roughly.

"A few years," admitted Jade with a one shoulder shrug. "It took me ages to find you in the first place but when I did, it didn't last long. I lost track just before the apocalypse broke free. I still don't know the reason. I didn't catch up with again until you were in Alliance, Nebraska. It was something about a half demon half human child, which I'm not sure I even believe. But then you both suddenly disappeared a few weeks after that. It took me months to find you. And it was Lawrence that I did, mainly thanks to Singer. I followed three of you talking, one I didn't recognise and haven't seen since. One guy exploded from a click of your fingers, Sam and Singer's neck was broken. A hole opened up in the ground and you jumped in, pulling the other guy with you. I saw the guy in the trench coat come back and he healed you. What is he, a demon?"

For a long moment when she finished speaking, there was nothing but silence. Dean and Sam shared a long, meaningful look before the younger hunter turned and locked the motel door. Dean sighed tiredly, rubbing his face vigorously with his hands.

"Maybe you should have told Jess after all, Sam," said Dean with a laugh of incredulity. "She probably would have made a great hunter."

"She knows too much, Dean," said Sam in a strangely calm voice.

"We're not killing her, Sam," retorted Dean. "I do think she deserves an explanation though."

"An explanation?" asked Sam in disbelief. "After all the stalking and snooping she's done on us."

"It was because of Jessica," said Dean quickly. "She wants to know what happened and why. Surely, that isn't so hard to appreciate? I mean, you and I would go and have gone to extreme lengths to find the other. She deserves to understand and have closure, or something."

"Dean..."

"Just tell me what happened to Jessica," said Jade quietly, almost unheard. "I miss my big sister. I just want to know why she had to die and how."

Rustling sounded in the now silent room as Dean refolded the piece of paper and put it back into his pocket. After taking a step, he gently took Jade by the arm and led to her one of the beds. "Maybe you should sit down and we'll start from the beginning."

"Dean, we don't have time for this!" snapped Sam, clearly irritated. "There's an alpha werewolf waiting to be dealt with."

"We can spare an hour," said Dean with a hard stare at his brother. "That werewolf isn't going anywhere."

Sam raised his arms in defeat and with a frustrated noise moved into the kitchen area and leaned against a couple of tall cupboards. "You tell the story then."

Dean sighed but didn't say anything. He moved to the other bed and sat down. Jade soon turned to look at him but felt uneasy at knowing Sam was to the side but out of sight. When Dean looked up, a tight feeling constricted his breathing. Jade's stormy grey eyes had lost their edge and were now full of tears, none of which had fallen. She clasped her hands together and held Dean's gaze.

"Sam and I were raised as hunters by our father," began Dean. "He became a hunter after our mother was killed. The thing that did it turned out to be a demon; a yellow-eyed demon named Azazel. At eighteen, Sam and dad had a fight and he left for college. About half-way through he and Jess were introduced. Eventually, they became a couple and started living together. Not long after Sam turned twenty-two, I collected him from school because our father had gone missing. I needed help. We went for the weekend and it turned up another location but I took Sam back to his apartment like he wanted. It was too late. Azazel put a contract out on Jess' life and she was killed in the same manner as our mother..."

"Which was?" asked Jade shakily.

"Ah... pinned to the ceiling, slashed across the abdomen and finally bursting into flames," said Dean, wanting to use to right words.

Instantly, Dean regretted his choice as Jade's tears spilled over, running in an uninterrupted stream down her pale cheek. After a few moments she seemed to regain herself and wiped her face before sniffling and shifting on the bed.

"Keep going," she whispered.

"Sam and I started hunting together after that," continued Dean. "Mainly to find our father and hunt down the demon. After a couple years, we found it and killed it. But the night we killed it, we released hundreds of demons. They were part of an army that Azazel was building. Just before Azazel's death, Sam was kidnapped and killed. I made a deal with a crossroads demon and had a year to live. At the end of that year, I went to Hell and spent four months there, which in Hell is forty years. After-"

"She doesn't really need to know the rest, does she?" asked Sam, interrupting.

"There's not much left to tell," said Dean, looking at his brother. "After all that a demon named Ruby started to turn Sam, making him use the powers Azazel had given him. He started drinking demon blood which became a habit. By the end, his powers were used to free Lucifer. With the devil free we started looking for a way to kill him. Nothing worked. A plan was given to us to trap him back in his cage, in Hell. Which we did, but Sam had to agree to be his vessel and jump in. That's the hole in the ground that you saw. The man that went in with him was our half-brother, possessed by Michael at the time. Sam returned, I stopped hunting and a whole year passed before we saw each other again. We learned that Sam no longer had his soul and we're now, trying to get it back."

"Questions?" asked Sam brashly as Dean finished.

"What powers?"

"The night our mother was killed, Azazel went into the nursery and bled into Sam's mouth," explained Dean. "It gave him a psychic ability. He could eventually use it, with help of drinking demon blood, to pull demons from a host body."

"And the guy I saw at the cemetery with the big hole, which exploded, who is he?"

"He's name's Castiel," said Dean. "He's an angel. He pulled me from Hell. He's a good guy."

"An Angel?" asked Jade incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," said Dean flatly.

"Then I guess the Michael possessing your half-brother was the archangel Michael?"

"Yes," repeated Dean.

Jade let out a long breath. She didn't know if she could deal with any of that right now. "Where is Jessica buried?"

"Well..." trailed off Dean.

"What?" asked Jade, looking between the brothers.

"There was no body to bury or even cremate," said Sam, his tone bordering on bored. "But she's got a headstone in Palo Alto."

"What did you tell them? About how she died?" Jade asked curiously, finally looking at Sam.

"Just that there was a fire in our apartment, which was true," said Sam sharply. "I wasn't home. It started accidentally and she was trapped."

Fresh tears rolled down Jade's face. Dean turned to look at Sam, rolling his eyes and shaking his head slightly at his lack of tact. Suddenly, a frown hit Dean's face and he glanced around the rest of the room before getting to his feet. Someone was missing.

"Where's Cas?"

Sam shrugged but a flutter came from near the door, turning three pairs of eyes toward it. A man dressed in a black suit, blue tie and tan trench coat stood there, his deep blue eyes focused on Dean across the room.

"I'm here," he announced in a deep voice.

"What took you so long?" asked Dean loudly.

"I knew she was here," he replied, his eyes unmoving. "I thought you'd want to talk with her first."

"You could have said something," muttered Sam.

The room turned quiet and at the bed springs squeaking sounding, all turned to look at Jade. She got to her feet, her eyes still on Castiel and she crossed the room and stood in front of him, looking up curiously.

"You're Castiel? The angel?" she questioned.

Castiel nodded, keeping the eye contact but he said nothing. Lifting her right arm Jade reached forward and gently, with one finger, poked Castiel in the chest. Finally, he looked away from her to glance down at where she poked him. When he glanced up he looked over her head towards Dean.

"What is she doing?"

"I don't think she believes that you're an angel," said Dean. It only made Castiel frown further. "Wings, Cas."

Thunder crackled, startling Jade, and white lights flashed through the room. Huge shadows were casted against the walls and slowly they grew in size. Jade jumped back in alarm, her eyes widening as it finally registered what she was seeing. They expanded and unfolded. It was what Dean had said. Wings. With a final crack of thunder, they disappeared, along with the almost blinding lights.

"An angel..." whispered Jade, mostly to herself and she walked to the sink for a glass of water as her mouth had suddenly turned dry.

"So, what's the plan, Cas?" asked Dean, putting the focus back onto their situation.

"Death," said the angel simply.

"Could you elaborate a little, please?" said Dean condescendingly.

"The only person other than God able to pull anything out of Lucifer's cage is Death," said Castiel calmly. "And since I haven't yet found my father, it will have to be with Death's help."

"Didn't Crowley pull Sam out of the cage, minus the soul?" said Dean with a confused look.

"Yes, but he was very lucky to get that out," said Castiel.

There was a round of silence. Sam broke it first. "Death?" he said, moving away from the kitchen area and towards the angel. "You're serious? And how do we get him here, kill someone?"

"No," said Castiel, slightly taken aback, a horrified look flashing across the human face. "Well... not someone else. More like Dean."

"Wow, Cas, didn't realise you hated me so much," said Dean, his eyebrows rising on his forehead and a cheeky smile beginning to appear.

"You'll need to bargain with Death but on his terms not yours," explained Castiel, holding the hunter's gaze, ignoring his comment. "But in order to do that you'll need to be dead."

"Won't a reaper just come for me?" asked Dean sharply.

"Not if you commit suicide," said Castiel. "They'll come but not straight away. You'll be stuck in limbo for a little while. There'll be enough time to summon a reaper and ask it to call Death."

"Summon a reaper?" asked Sam, wondering if he heard correctly.

"If you're put to sleep, you can summon a reaper, preferably one you already know," explained Castiel. "Have them call Death to that location and see if he'll bargain. I doubt he'll pass up on the opportunity."

"Why?" asked Dean quickly.

"Wait, wait, wait," interrupted Jade, stopping just near Sam. "Death has in 'The horseman Death'?"

"Yes," murmured Dean.

"For what she just mentioned," said Castiel, answering Dean's question with a slight nod towards Jade. "He's a horseman. You don't know Death like other supernatural beings do. He enjoys his job and an opportunity to screw with a human's mind, he won't pass up. But it's more than that. I think somehow, he's got a soft spot for you, Dean."

"Great," the elder hunter muttered, rolling his eyes. "Look, we can deal with this tomorrow. First we've got an alpha werewolf to deal with."

"Any suggestions?" asked Sam, giving the angel a curious glace.

"It won't tell you what you want to know. Kill it," said Castiel indifferently. "Let me know when you're ready."

Wings fluttered through the room and Castiel was gone. Jade blinked rapidly a few times and searched the room. Booted footsteps then sounded, catching Jade's attention. She watched the two brother's exit and soon made a decision to follow.

"Can I come with you?" she asked hastily, looking between them, settling on Dean.

They exchanged glances. "We can handle the werewolf," snapped Sam. "We don't need to babysit you."

"I'm a good hunter," defended Jade firmly. "I don't need anyone to babysit me."

"All you'll be is a liability," said Sam loudly. "And we don't need any help from you, no matter how insignificant."

"I've done jobs alone," said Jade, somewhat calmer. "I know what to do."

"You'll hinder any progress we make," retorted Sam.

"I'm not finished talking you yet, either," said Jade. "There are still things I need to know about my sister."

"We've already told you," said Sam impatiently. "You know everything."

"And everything I could possibly need to know about my sister and her death can be told and dismissed so quickly," snapped Jade, the tears starting to form.

"Details are not something you need-"

"Sam," interrupted Dean sharply, getting both of their attentions. "That's enough, from both of you. Now, Sam I agree that it'll be... different having someone along for the ride but just this once, she can come with us. I'm sure more questions will come up later. Jade, you can come along to help us get rid of the alpha werewolf and you'll both keep your distance from each other. Now, get in and be quiet."

With nothing more than a brief glance at each other, both Sam and Jade did as they were told. Jade hopped into the back, behind Dean while Sam slid into the passenger seat. The engine roared to life and without another word spoken, they took off.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Just as they exited the black Impala noiselessly, minus the light squeaking of each door, the sun broke free of the horizon and shone an orange haze towards them. They walked over the grass and through the iron gate that Dean unlocked and held open. Jade followed Sam through with Dean close behind. The side door of the church was wide open and they passed through without incidence.

On entering, Dean closed and locked the door behind them, binding it with silver chains. Jade stood back just in front of an empty altar and watched as Dean and Sam stepped forward, the werewolf directly in front of them. It was awake, it's blue eyes wide open, staring at both brothers, a wicked smile beginning to play on its pale, chapped lips.

"Have you bought me a plaything?" she hissed despite looking pleased.

"No, no toys for you," said Dean, cocking his head, knowing that the werewolf referred to Jade. "We've come to bring an end to the doggy line."

The smile on the creatures face faltered and its eyes lost a little of its spark. "You can't do that," it hissed in a low almost inaudible voice.

"Oh, I think we can," said Dean with a small smile, pulling the iridium knife out from his belt. Jade watched curiously, not realising the knife was there. Dean twirled it skilfully with his fingers, the werewolf's eyes following its every movement.

"Silver won't kill me."

"This," said Dean, grasping the hilt and holding it up. "This is not silver, it's pure iridium. It worked on your little Shapeshifter buddy; it'll work on you too."

A horrible snarling filled the air as the werewolf's body lengthened and bone audibly cracked, the body becoming distorted and misshapen. Its eyes turned wild and animalistic and its jaw seemed to open up, showing rows of sharp, pointed white teeth that poked through. A deafening crack echoed off the church walls and a heavy showering of metal rained on the pristine white marble floors, chipping it in several places.

A loud roar followed and the werewolf turned sharply on its heel and ran towards the main door. It reached for the handle but a piecing scream echoed off the walls. She yanked her hands away and held it against her chest. Even from where she stood Jade could see where the skin was burning and sizzling.

"Silver," reminded Sam smugly. "We're not stupid."

The werewolf hissed and turned its head, the frayed brown hair flowing wildly. At the stillness of its body, something had changed. Escape was no longer on its list. Jade swallowed hard and stepped back and to the other side of the altar.

"Uh... guys..." she whispered, barely hearing herself.

Dean took a step back, toward the door but the werewolf made its move. It took few huge strides and lunged at Dean who was instantly knocked out from a blow to the back of the head against the floor. It turned, growling, focusing on Sam who had already pulled a silver knife and moving into an attack position. He smiled as though taunting it, daring it to attack.

The werewolf stood to its full height, her slender body elongating sleekly. Her arms shot out to the sides and long nails extended from the tips of her fingers. With her teeth bared in a long, drawn out hiss, she made for Sam. Their bodies collided and together they fell to the ground. Jade put her hands on the altar and leaned forward to see what was happening.

A howl of pain resonated as Sam slashed the knife wildly, hoping to hit part of it and after a few attempt he succeeded. The werewolf got to her feet and bunching her hands in Sam's shirt, she hauled him up and threw him across the room. The knife dropped from his grip and he slid down the wall, a passive look on his face. As soon as he slumped against the marble, the werewolf turned and faced Jade.

Instantly, she pushed off the altar, ignoring as it turned over and crashed to the floor. As fear flooded through her, she hastily fumbled behind her for a weapon of some kind. But the table was empty. Feeling stupid, she bent down and took the silver knife from her ankle belt but as she stood up tall, she froze. The werewolf was standing inches from her. Jade's eyes widened. It had moved so quickly and without a sound.

"Hey!"

After peering around the massive body in front of her, Jade ducked. Dean had woken up, pulled himself to his knees and the iridium knife in hand. He threw it and it plunged into the small of its back. An agonising howl sounded through the church and Jade took her chance. She plunged her silver knife into the werewolf's shoulder and made to go around but didn't make it.

The werewolf swiped angrily with a claw and struck Jade's shoulder, sending her down. A shout sounded but the words were muffled. The pain didn't register as Jade's vision turned to spots of white and confusion clouded her thoughts. Soon, it became too much and just as another shout passed her, everything turned to black.

* * *

Slowly, her eyes opened. The blurred room looked cluttered and unfamiliar. With a little effort she pulled herself up, gasping at the pain throbbing in her shoulder. She glanced down. She was still wearing the same clothes but her shoes were gone along with her socks and the shoulder on one side of her shirt had been cut and ripped away to get at the wound. A large square white bandage was there with tape holding it in place.

At the rough feeling under her hands she looked down. She was on a red couch. Despite it clearly being old it wasn't uncomfortable as it looked. Her confusion grew and she looked up to glance around the room. It was filled with bookcases containing books of all different shapes and sizes, the dark red patterned wall paper was decorated with a few landscape paintings and a desk sat in front of the fireplace, piled with papers, books and a magnifying lamp.

It was quiet except for the faint ticking of a clock elsewhere in the house. The confusion grew more and she kicked the small blanket off her body and stood up. The carpet beneath her feet was soft but worn, tearing visible in places. She looked between the two doorways but it didn't take long to decide. She walked through the open pocket sliding doors into what she could already tell was the kitchen.

It was empty as well. The table was bare and each of the four chairs were neatly tucked in underneath. The white shuttered windows and back door were closed. The old white fridge sat in the corner, humming lightly while the stove sat silent beside it. On the other side of the kitchen there was another desk with a tall bookcase beside it and a row of telephones hanging on the wall.

After turning on the spot a few times, she sighed and moved to one of the windows. Almost immediately, she knew where she was. The sign out in the yard she recognised; Singer's Auto Salvage. She'd been here months ago, asking about the Winchesters but the hunter who lived here, Bobby Singer, had refused to answer any of her questions. He'd gotten short with her rather quickly and threw her off his property with a stern warning not to return. She know knew why he reacted the way he did. They were close. It had to be Dean and Sam who had decided to bring her here and if they were here or not now she didn't know.

Another sigh sounded as she stepped back from the window. She had to find out if someone was here. There were a few things she had to know. She turned around and went back into the living room but instantly stopped in dead in her tracks as a tall figure stood in the other doorway. A small gasp escaped her mouth but she said nothing. She and Sam locked eyes and an instant shiver ran down her spine.

Without moving she tried to feel if there was a weapon on her but she couldn't feel anything. Surely, when getting here, they would have been removed. She held his gaze. The hazel eyes were hard, cold and empty. It made her skin turned bumpy and nothing but fear fill her up. She took on hesitant step back but Sam didn't move. He stood tall and still, his arms rigid by his sides. The image before her was different to the photos Jessica once sent her. In those, Sam seemed kind, happy and in love. His smile was infectious and his eyes gleamed with delight. But all of that was now gone, replaced with emptiness.

"Are you going to attack me?" she asked nervously.

"No," said Sam simply. "However, I think I should be asking you that."

"No," said Jade tiredly. "I'm not going to do anything."

"Maybe we should talk then," suggested Sam, stepping into the room and sitting on the edge of the wooden desk.

"Talk?" Jade questioned. "Really?"

Sam shrugged nonchalantly. "I might not have my soul but I still have my memories," he said, turning to meet her eyes again. "And you said you might have more questions. I suppose if the roles were reversed I'd have done the same as you. Besides, Dean and Bobby aren't here. It's just you and me. Whatever is said will be private."

Stiffly, Jade walked across the room and sat down on the red sofa. She gazed at the opposite wall, suddenly feeling too afraid to look at Sam in the face. She clasped her hands together and placed them in her lap. She felt nervous. She could ask about her sister, although now no questions came to mind. Perhaps Sam had been right. They told all her everything that had happened to Jessica. Wasn't that what she wanted to know?

"Was she happy?" she asked, her voice turning a little shaky.

"Yes," he answered simply. "We had a good, stable relationship and we were in love. A few weeks before the fire I went shopping for rings. I was gonna ask Jess to marry me."

At the last sentence, Jade turned her head. Sam was looking across the room, into the one beyond. Despite the no soul business he seemed minutely sad. The look was distant but didn't discourage further questions.

"Why didn't you ask before?"

"I didn't have the ring," said Sam, shrugging. "And I was waiting for the perfect moment but, of course, that moment never came." Pausing, Sam turned to look at her. She felt herself flush but ignored it. "I thought you and Jess were close?"

It was Jade's turn to shrug. "We were," she said, a sad smile tugging at her mouth. "After she went to college, it became hard to be proper sisters, with the distance. She called a lot, wrote letters home but it wasn't the same, you know? We lost touch maybe six months before it happened. It just seemed sudden and I couldn't find anyone that had answers and you seemed to just drop off the radar."

"How did you find us and become a hunter?"

"I've already told you," said Jade with a small frown. "Back at the motel I was telling the truth. I spoke to that guy who worked with your father and went from there. If I knew then what I know now I wouldn't have started the journey in the first place. I would just write it off as an accident and move on but I can't now."

"So, the trying to kill me and the stalking is over?" asked Sam, the beginnings of a faint smile started to appear.

"Yes," said Jade, with a small smile and a nod. "I promise. I suppose if I had been in that position, things might have been similar. Do you miss her?"

"Every day," said Sam quietly.

Jade nodded slowly. She believed him. There was no reason not to. In silence, they shared a look but Jade quickly turned away, feeling uneasy about holding his gaze. Having no soul seemed unreal to her as though it weren't possible.

"There's a silver lining, you know?"

Jade met his eyes again at his words. "What silver lining?"

"You know what happened to Jessica," answered Sam. "You're a hunter and now you've met three more. We're not going anywhere. Hunters usually stick together, help each other out."

Slowly, Jade moved, pressing her palm against her shoulder and stretched up as best she could.

"No," said Jade, glancing away. "It's no silver lining. I wish none of this had happened. I wish I had let it go and just accepted her death as an accident but I couldn't."

"Why?"

"I don't know," shrugged Jade. "I guess I didn't want to accept that she'd died young and in fire with no suspicious circumstances. I wanted someone to blame and after you disappeared I wanted that person to be you. I suddenly feel like I've wasted six years of my life."

"You haven't."

Jade shook her head and looked down, biting her bottom lip to stop the flush of tears that burned the backs of her eyes. She'd already cried once in front of them and she wasn't going to do it again. Last time was embarrassing enough despite having a good reason.

"Who patched me up?"

"Bobby," replied Sam instantly. "He told us how you came here asking about us and that he wasn't very nice to you. He knows the story now. It'll have to be redone as he was a little nervous about removing your clothes while you were unconscious. Of course, Dean offered but Bobby told him to get some towels instead."

"And my shoes?" asked Jade glancing downwards briefly.

"I took them off," said Sam nonchalantly. "I thought it would be more comfortable. I also took your weapons. Didn't want you to freak out or have something sharp when you woke up. I could take a look and change the bandage if you want." At the hesitant look on Jade's face he chuckle. "I promise to be gentle."

Without any words, Jade nodded and shifted up on the sofa, giving Sam enough room to sit comfortably beside her. She watched as he took a stack of bandages from the desk drawer as well as a glass bottle of brown liquid she was sure was whiskey.

"Shouldn't that be in the kitchen?" asked Jade quietly, trying to keep the amusement from her voice.

"Bobby hides things all over the place," said Sam. "It's come in handy. Alright, hold still."

Jade made a mental note to not watch. She felt the tape tug at her skin was it was removed. The bottle of whiskey gurgled and after a few seconds it touched her skin. Jade hissed through her teeth as the sting ran up and down her arm. Sam's hazel eyes flicked up momentarily but he said nothing as he cleaned the wound thoroughly.

As he put the cotton ball down Jade's curiosity became too much and turned her head to face him but her eyes were on the wound. Her grey eyes opened wide as it sunk it. There were four claw marks at least four inches long across her shoulder. It was sore and very red with dried blood crusting the outside.

"Will that heal?" she asked, her voice returning to shaky.

"Yes," said Sam quietly. "It'll take time, but it'll heal."

"Good," she whispered under her breath.

As Sam pressed the clean new bandage to her shoulder, the front door opened and new voices floated on the air into the living room. Within a few seconds, they appeared, Dean coming in first, a box in hand. Bobby followed, holding a box of his own and both observed the scene in front of them. Sam ignored everything, his focus on the bandage.

"Hey, look who's finally up," said Dean, placing the box onto the desk. "Thought you were gonna sleep all day."

"It's afternoon?"

Dean's smile widened and he chuckled. "Uh, yeah, it's almost four."

"Oh," was all Jade could think of to say.

"Anyway, you two have met but this time will be better," said Dean. "Bobby Singer, meet Jade Moore, Jessica's little sister. Jade, this is Bobby Singer an old and dear friend and fellow hunter."

"Old?" muttered Bobby, dropping the box in his own arms before extending an arm to Jade. "Nice to meet you."

Jade shook his hand. "Likewise."

"Good to see you haven't killed each other," murmured Dean as he strolled into the kitchen.

It was quiet and the sound of the fridge opening was heard. Dean returned with four beers in hand. Jade shyly muttered her thanks and held the cool bottle between her hands, deciding to wait until Sam finished. After the tape was applied, Sam made sure it held before getting to his feet and opening the bottle that Dean placed near him.

"What happened to the werewolf?" asked Jade as the tension only seemed to build.

"It's dead," replied Dean. "She won't be spawning any more little werewolf babies."

"How did it die? Who killed it?" asked Jade, looking between the brothers.

"Well, I threw the iridium knife at it," said Dean, opening the bottle in his hands. "It must have hit its spine because it lost it balance and you distracted it while putting that silver knife in it and I managed to get a whole lot of silver bullets through its heart. I doubt there was anything left of it. And it died. We buried in behind the church."

"On the church grounds?"

"No, just behind it," said Dean quickly. "Beyond the fence," he added.

"I see," murmured Jade.

Jade decided to not ask anything more. She was sure she'd gone through everything. But she was glad the werewolf was dead since she was sure it would have mauled her if Dean hadn't come around. For the first time since she started this, she felt exposed, vulnerable. It had never really occurred to her before. Maybe it's the sign she needed.

"So," said Dean after taking a long swig. "We need to talk about this whole soul, Death business."

"What's to talk about, Dean?" asked Sam roughly.

"How about we see if he can do it first," said Dean sharply. "I'll just talk to him. He might not even want to help us."

"How about the ring?"

All eyes turned onto Bobby who was leaning against the doorframe, his beer remaining unopened.

"What?" asked Dean and Sam in unison.

"Death's ring," said Bobby enunciating both words. "Don't you still have it?"

Jade watched as the realisation passed over both brothers' faces. But she didn't know what they were talking about. They'd never mentioned anything about a ring. She opened her bottle of beer and took sips every few seconds as she watched their conversation continue.

"You want me to bribe Death?" asked Dean, making sure he had it right.

Bobby shrugged. "It could work."

"So, how's this gonna work? Don't we need a doctor or something?" said Dean, looking between Sam and Bobby.

"I might know someone," said Bobby, thinking hard. "It's a guy your father used to go to when he was badly banged up." Bobby moved from the doorway and around the other side of the desk. The clunk from the beer bottle sounded as it hit the desk and a thud from a thick black leather book soon followed. Bobby opened several pages in and using his fingers, scanned each aging page. "Here, Doctor Roberts. I don't know if he's still at the same address. It's been a long time. There's a good chance the number's still the same."

Dean nodded. "I'll call him tomorrow," he said without giving it much time for thought.

Feeling out of place, Jade noiselessly got up from the sofa and placed her now empty beer bottle on the desk. "Where's my stuff?" she asked, looking between the three men.

"Upstairs," said Bobby, pointing to the stairs over his shoulder. "Second door on the right."

"Thanks," she whispered, walking towards the door.

"You're leaving?" said Dean quickly.

At reaching the doorframe, Jade stopped and turned, looking at Dean. "This seems like a family thing and I've got the answers I wanted."

"Well... you're close to family..." said Dean hesitantly, his arm indicating towards Sam.

A small smile graced Jade's face. It was sweet and appreciated but she knew even Dean didn't believe them. "Thanks for telling me everything and for saving my life and for patching me up but I'll be getting out of your hair and let you concentrate on Sam's soul and Death and... all that."

Without another word, Jade slipped silently from the door and disappeared upstairs. She gathered her things together quickly and as she made her way back downstairs, voices already coming from the living room. Dean had moved into the doorway, catching her eye as she reached the bottom. She gave a tiny smile and nod which was instantly returned and with just the creaking of the hinges, she slipped out the front door and towards the silver car in the dusty driveway.

* * *

Thanks for reading! A sequel coming.


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